Alternate Ending to 218 Boom
by Overpressure
Summary: My take on what might have happened at the end of 218 "Boom,"  if Castle hadn't missed.  Rated M for Gore.


**Disclaimer: Castle is not mine, it belongs to others, which is a good thing.**

**I apologize in advance for any errors in spelling, grammar, or stuff like that. **

**Be warned some nasty descriptions of violence are about to ensue.**

"No!" Castle's shout burst forth involuntarily as he aimed his Glock at Scott Dunn. As his finger tightened on the trigger Castle suddenly realized that he was making a rookie shooter's mistake. He was so focused on the killer's gun that he was aiming for it instead of the man. Castle swept his arms slowly to the left, remembering his firearms training. 'Slow is smooth and smooth is fast' he thought as the three small white pips on the gun sights seemed to crawl up from Dunn's hand to point at the center of his chest. Castle blew out the hot, ragged breath he had been holding and pressed the trigger.

The Glock roared in Castle's hands as the first round discharged, by rote, he let up on the trigger just a couple of millimeters to allow the gun to cycle back into battery and pressed again. The two 9mm slugs hammered into the center of Dunn's chest, but not before Dunn's own gun spat a tongue of flame towards Beckett's supine form. From the edge of his vision Castle saw Beckett's head jerk to the side as a scream of fear and pain burst from her mouth. Her body slumped to the floor.

Dunn stumbled backwards a step, Beckett's pistol clattering to the cold concrete from his suddenly nerveless fingers. His knees buckled, and he tumbled backwards to the ground.

Castle took two steps forward to stand over Dunn's trembling body, Beckett's agonizing scream still echoing in his ears. He drew in one deep and shuddering breath, slowly exhaling through pursed lips, he lined up the three white dots across the bridge of Dunn's nose. Two sets of eyes met across the gulf of that blued steel barrel, one set filmed with tears of pain, the other dark with the fury of insanity. Castle pressed the trigger.

Jordan Shaw rounded the stack of crates just in time to see Richard Castle put a bullet through Scott Dunn's brain. For a few minutes, adrenaline and her years of training and experience overrode the trauma of the past day. Shaw made a rapid assessment of the situation.

'Suspect: Scott Dunn, gunshot wound to the head: deceased, no threat.'

'Victim: Detective Beckett, down, condition uncertain; no threat.'

'Shooter: Richard Castle, condition uncertain; armed; possible threat.'

The first order of business for Jordan was to disarm the immediate threat and then alert Avery and the team.

Castle was standing rigidly with his gaze locked on Dunn's body. Residual brain stem activity causing it to twitch and gurgle in a horrifying parody of life. Bits of blood and bone as well as unidentifiable fluids and tissues frothed from Dunn's wounds. A burst of gas escaping his lungs caused a large bloody bubble to rise from the hole in Dunn's face. Castle felt a horrible instant where a chuckle rose to burst through his own lips. He frantically attempted to suppress it, but only managed to transform it into a hiccuping sob.

"Castle" the soft whisper from Agent Shaw drifted from behind.

Castle spun towards her, his own body still pumping with adrenaline, and for an instant whatever she saw in his eyes painted her face with fear. They both stood for a frozen second before she whispered "The gun."

He looked into her pale eyes for a long moment, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Her eyes flickered downward towards his right hand, so he looked there as well. Castle was shocked to see that his hand was holding the gun up, nearly pointing it at Agent Shaw.

Castle slowly released the tension his finger held on the trigger. His thumb pressed the magazine release and he swept his off hand underneath to catch it, then he used that hand to pull back the slide on the Glock until it ejected the unfired round and locked open. Agent Shaw held her hands out to Castle and he passed the gun into her care, making sure that neither of them were burned by the hot barrel.

Agent Shaw swiftly set the gun aside on a stack of crates, keeping the loaded magazine in her possession. Castle's head turned back to witness the final paroxysms of Scott Dunn's corpse.

"Castle." She said in hushed tones, then "Castle!" louder, when he didn't respond the first time.

Castle's head whipped back around his face twisted in what she thought must be pain or regret.

"Castle! You take care of Kate. I have to go get my team out of the blast area."

It took Castle a moment to process what Agent Shaw was saying, then he nodded and she turned and rushed from the room. Fear paralyzed Rick Castle, fear of looking at the lifeless body of Detective Katherine Beckett. More reluctantly than he had done anything before in his life, Castle turned to look.

Beckett lay on her side with her back pressed against the cold concrete wall. Her beautiful face a ruin of blood. Castle's breath stopped as his world began to tilt off its axis. Saliva flooded his mouth as his gorge rose. He crashed to his hands and knees, heedless of the damage inflicted by the fall, and he vomited. His stomach emptied in the first few heaves, Castle was working on bringing up the contents of his duodenum when he heard Beckett moan.

Frantically, Castle wiped the tears from his bloodshot eyes. Elation lifted his soul from despair as he saw Beckett trying to prop herself up in a sitting position against the wall.

Sliding across the dirt encrusted floor, Castle ever-so-gently grasped Beckett's shoulders to help her sit up. At his touch, Beckett gave a strangled shriek and swiped at his face. Fortunately, for Castle his reflexes overrode his initial shock at the attack and he turned his face away in time. Beckett's nails drew lines of fire across his temple and cheek instead of his eyes.

Castle grabbed Beckett's wrists and tried to restrain her. She began to scream and struggle against his grip, her legs flailing in an attempt to kick him off.

"Beckett! Beckett! Kate! It's me! It's Castle!" he shouted as they struggled against one another. Castle slid closer, getting between her legs so she couldn't kick him, his body pressing her's against the wall.

"C..Castle?" Beckett's response was a throaty croak. She stopped fighting him. The searing pain pulsing through her brain returned as the adrenaline fueled panic receded.

"It's Castle, It's OK. We're safe." He whispered as he loosened his grip on her wrists.

"Castle...I can't see" Beckett cried. Her eyes were burning. When she tried to open them all she got was a dark haze and more pain.

"Shhit's ok, it's ok, let me take a look." Castle attempted to comfort her as he looked carefully over the her wounds, his fingers gently framing her face so he could get a closer look.

The first thing Castle noticed was a nasty gash running from Beckett's hairline above her right eye back towards the top of her head. The gash was ragged and deep. The blood spilling from her scalp still warm with the heat of her as it flowed over his fingertips. His dour initial assessment improved as he looked at her eyes, they didn't seem to be damaged only obscured by the freely flowing blood.

"You've got a nasty scalp laceration. I think from the b..bullet." His voice swallowed by panic as his mind wrote the alternate scene where Dunn's shot didn't miss. Castle unclenched his jaw and pulled himself back into the now. The now where Beckett still needed him.

"I think you can't see b..because of the blood, l..let me get you cleaned up." Castle tried to reinforce his voice with the usual confidence, but the panic still fluttering around the edges of his sanity twisted it to a pathetic plea.

Castle reached down to unbutton his shirt for a bandage. His fingers slipped over the third button and he looked down. A slurry of his vomit and her blood glazed his custom tailored button-down. The panic pressed a little closer; Buttons flew as he tore the shirt and overcoat from his body. His plain cotton undershirt was blessedly free of bodily fluid. Castle carefully tore a strip of cloth from the bottom of the shirt. Folding it into a makeshift bandage, he gently pressed it to Beckett's head wound.

Beckett winced and gave a small gasp of pain as Castle applied the bandage. He held it there for a minute or so until he was satisfied that it was stemming the flow adequately. Castle grasped Beckett's right hand and brought it up to the bandage.

"Hold this here please." he rumbled softly into her ear. Tearing another strip from his shirt, Castle proceeded to carefully wipe the pooled blood from her eyes. Partially coagulated blood clings tenaciously, especially to long, gorgeous eyelashes, but Castle's gentle persistence triumphed. In only a couple of minutes he had cleared the blood from Beckett's eyes .

"Ok, now try opening your eyes." He said softly.

Beckett slowly opened her eyes, blinking profusely against the tears and burning. She sighed in relief as her vision began to clear. The first thing she saw were Castle's eyes. His piercing blue eyes were always striking, even from the first time their eyes had met so long ago; That gaze had been seared into her memory. These eyes were different.

The brilliant blue irises were obscured by unshed tears and dilated blood vessels. Dark circles gave him a sunken and haunted look. It was something else that seized her attention, though. Something she had never seen in his eyes before, the fear, the need. It came though her mind in a gale, the understanding of what this was. Richard Castle naked, in front of her eyes. She suspected that many, many people had seen Castle's naked body, but she knew that very few had ever seen this, his naked soul.

The panic and pain were obliterated as their gazes locked. The world fell away as they delved into each other. Somewhere in the space between their battered minds and bodies rose the promise of more. Without words an agreement was reached, exploration lay ahead. The sheer intensity of the moment finally overwhelmed them and they simultaneously dropped their eyes.

Castle, leaned forward, his arms gently encircling Beckett as he pressed his cheek to hers. Her free arm rose to cinch around his waist, finding bare skin where she expected to find shirt. For a few silent minutes they just held each other, allowing the shared comfort to dissipate the ragged emotions. Castle shifted his head so his forehead pressed against her temple, his nose buried in her hair and his warm breath gently caressing her face.

"Castle?" Beckett whispered her voice raw from the day's ordeal.

"Hmm?" Castle buzzed softly into her ear.

"Do you have any mouthwash?" she teased, then snorted a laugh.

Castle threw his head back and roared laughter. He laughed until his sides ached, laughed until he started to cry.

That's how Esposito, Ryan, Agent Shaw and her team, and the FBI EOD team found them minutes later. Richard Castle kneeling on torn and bloodied knees between Detective Kate Beckett's outspread legs. His arms cradling her close as his hot tears spilled over his face. Her own tears joining his in a torrent soaking his cotton half-T-shirt.

**Please Review if you would. This is my first published fanfic. I can use all the help I can get.**


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